Unhealthy Obsession
by SilverCat63
Summary: Spock is unsure how to deal with his new captain, and there is tension between the captain and the first officer on the way to the Enterprise' first mission. Ties in with ToS "Where No Man Has Gone Before." Eventual Kirk/Spock, with plenty of angst.
1. Chapter 1 The Game

**Disclaimer:** Star Trek belongs to Gene Rodenberry, Paramount, and (probably) JJ Abrams. I'm not any of those people; I'm just a penniless music student playing with pretty toys. Don't sue me, please. It really wouldn't be worth it!

**Warning:** Watch out for M/M sex! Don't like it? don't read it!

**Author's Note:** I've only seen the new Star Trek once, and I wasn't very impressed with it. (Sorry!) However, one little line got stuck in my head so I just had to write something about it. And voila! It was meant to be a tiny little PWP, but Spock just wouldn't cooperate so out popped this – this _whatever_ it is. I hope you enjoy. Reviews would be much appreciated!

*~*

**Unhealthy Obsession**

Lieutenant Commander Spock could not believe the arrogance of _Captain_ James T. Kirk. He had observed, with some puzzlement, the cocky young trainee stress his assumed title in his latest, and final, Kobayashi Maru test. Spock had also notice the boy sit in the captain's chair on the bridge of the_ Enterprise_ with far too much enthusiasm. When Spock was in temporary command, the miscreant even went so far as to attempt to occupy the chair again, which Spock quickly put a halt to with a brusk _"Out of the chair_."

Spock knew Kirk was only human, and therefore bound to be illogical, but Spock still considered him to be one of the most illogical beings he had ever encountered. In fact, Commander Spock was nearly convinced that Captain Kirk had a strange fixation with the captain's chair. His suspicions were confirmed when he was invited to the captain's quarters one evening for a game of Tri-Dimensional chess.

In the captain's living quarters was a perfect replica of the captain's command chair, lacking only functioning master control switches but otherwise exact down to the last detail. Spock was speechless.

Captain Kirk coolly regarded his stunned first officer for a moment before speaking. "Ah, Mr. Spock! How kind of you to join me."

"It is my pleasure, captain." Spock inclined his head deferentially, not believing the arrogance of the young human seated before him.

Kirk waved an expansive hand, gesturing Spock to take a seat across the small table from him. "Come in. I have the board all set up."

Spock stepped forward and could not help notice that the chair he was lowering himself into was yet another replica, this time of an ordinary crewman's seat from the bridge. He raised raised an eyebrow at Kirk, wondering how long he had had this unhealthy obsession. The only answer he got was a raised eyebrow from across the table.

"Would you car for some Saurian brandy?"

"No, thank you."

"Oh, come now, Mister Spock. I insist." Kirk levered himself out of the chair and moved to a small sideboard laden with a jug of brandy and two glasses. Spock watched the captain slosh generous amounts into both glasses before gracefully depositing one in front of the Vulcan and settling back in his ridiculous chair.

"Cheers," Kirk said, raising his own glass, a half smile on his ghosting around his lips.

Spock said nothing, merely raising his glass and nodding at the other male. A look of annoyance flashed briefly across Kirk's face before it disappeared behind the glass. Half of the liquid disappeared down the captain's throat in one gulp, making Spock raised his eyebrow again, all the reaction he would allow himself to the human's little display.

Kirk slammed the glass down on the table and sighed loudly as fire coursed down his throat and into his belly; Spock raised his eyebrow higher, completely unimpressed. Annoyance flickered over Kirk's face again.

"Well, drink up," he ordered.

Spock lowered his eyebrow while simultaneously raising his glass. Something in him made him throw his head back in a vulgar gesture as he tossed the alcoholic beverage down his throat, neatly consuming the entire contents of his glass. He decorously set his emptied glass down on the table, only allowing the faintest hitch to his breathing as he felt the brandy make its way through his body.

Kirk gave a disgruntled sniff and lifted his glass again, draining it dry before getting up to retrieve the jug of brandy and bringing back to the table to refill both their glasses. Spock's protest died on his lips as a greater amount of expensive liquid was poured into his glass; the glare that shot out from beneath Kirk's lowered brows also helped to convinced Mr. Spock to hold his tongue.

The ritual was repeated, though this time it was Kirk who gulped the entire contents of his glass; Spock restrained himself and finished his in three large, not-quite swallows. While the human gasped loudly with the effort of consuming the highly alcoholic beverage, the Vulcan's breath did not even hitch this time. Another glare marred Captain Kirk's attractive features, breaking futilely against the implacable barrier of logic the first officer wrapped himself in.

"Shall we begin, sir?" Spock asked courteously, knowing that a human of Kirk's size would not tolerate the effects of much more brandy, especially at the rate it was being consumed. He was also moved by the unsettling feeling of the alcohol stewing in his own digestive system.

It was a simple matter to suppress the sensation and turn his attention to the game as the captain made the first move, claiming the white pieces as his own. Spock did not mind. Chess was a highly logical game, and he did not doubt his abilities.

The game went quickly as Kirk made reckless moves that caused Spock to raise an internal eyebrow lest he give away his opponent's folly. Spock won easily, much to the captain's disgust.

As he mated the white king, Spock murmured quietly, "Check and mate."

Kirk glowered at his king as though the inanimate object was the reason for his loss before conceding defeat and sullenly flicking his king over. "You win," he growled and promptly poured himself more Saurian brandy, pointedly not offering Spock a refill.

Spock did not mind. His body was unaccustomed to the amount of alcohol he had already consumed, and he did not wish to add more to the churning pit that was his stomach.

Kirk gulped another glass of brandy before gasping out, "I want a rematch, Mr. Spock."

"Certainly," Spock agreed and began setting the pieces up again. Kirk commandeered white again and play began in deadly ernest.

Kirk seemed determined to win, and he considered every option for an almost ridiculous amount of time before finally making a move. Spock found himself unable to watch the captain as his eyes flickered over the many boards, darting between options; he could see every move Kirk was considering and felt confident that nothing the human could do would surprise him.

About half way through the game, when Kirk's pieces had been reduced by a quarter, Spock found his attention straying to the ostentatious replica his opponent was sitting in. It was remarkably accurate, and Spock could not help but wonder where the captain had obtained it as it was clearly not standard issue or an inexpensive facsimile. It was no wonder that Spock came as close to actually jumping as a Vulcan could get when Kirk interrupted his musings.

"Do you like my chair, Mr. Spock?" His blue eyes glittered at Spock over the board as long fingers folded together and propped up a chiseled chin.

Spock was silent for a moment as he weighed his answer. "I find it – fascinating."

Kirk's eyes practically flashed fire at the perceived compliment, but he didn't say anything more. Spock waited a moment then looked pointedly back at the board. He had already planned out the next four moves for him and his opponent when Kirk dragged his attention away again.

"Wouldn't you like to take a closer look at it?"

"Captain?" Spock looked at him, genuinely confused.

"I know you want to," Kirk gloated. "I've seen you staring at it since you walked in here. Now, why don't you stop pretending and just come over here and look at it?"

Spock hesitated a moment, weighing his options. The captain was drunk, but he was still the Captain. There was also the beautiful replica to consider; it was very intriguing. Spock made his decision and stood up.

He cautiously made his way over to the chair and bent over it, clasping his hands behind his back and making a point of not touching what he was studying, just like the Elders did. Even at close quarters, the replica chair was nearly perfect. The critical buttons that were exclusive to the command chair on the bridge were still present as nonfunctioning knobs. Everything was perfect. Spock stood up and caught Kirk's eye.

The bright blue was dancing and... hungry. "Well, what do you think?" He drawled.

"Impressive, captain. A perfect replica," Spock acknowledged.

"And?"

Spock thought for a moment, wondering what else he could add. "My compliments to the manufacturer."

"And?"

Spock's mind whirled. There was nothing he could add unless - "It suits you, captain."

"Thank you, Mr. Spock." Captain Kirk sat back and grinned like the proverbial cat who got away with the cream.

Spock waited for a moment, wondering what else there was to say. When nothing was forthcoming, he cleared his throat and said, "If that's all, sir, I'll bid you good night."

As he made to withdraw, Kirk stopped him. "Aren't you curious about anything else?"

"Sir?" Spock stopped and turned to look at Kirk again.

"You've inspected the chair. Don't you want to know more about the person sitting _in_ the chair?" Kirk sprawled back, lazily turning the chair with idle flicks of his ankle.

"You are Captain James Tiberius Kirk of the starship _Enterprise_. You are twenty-eight standard years old, the youngest captain in the history of Starfleet. You are also the only cadet ever to defeat the Kobayashi Maru test," Spock added wryly.

"Uh huh," Kirk agreed with a small grin. "But what else do you know? Can you tell me anything that you won't find in my service record or personnel file?"

"That would be an invasion of your privacy, sir," Spock said stiffly.

Kirk just looked at him with one eyebrow raised, doing a fair imitation of his first officer. Spock remained impassive. "Aren't you the least bit curious, Mr. Spock?" He wheedled after a long moment of silence.

Spock hesitated, swallowing down his automatic denial. After his little chat with his older self from another timeline, Spock had come to realize some things about himself, including his emotions. He pondered deeply before replying, "Yes, I am curious."

"Good. Good, Mr. Spock," Kirk said, and he reminded Spock of the villains in historical "movies" from the twentieth century. "Come back over here."

Kirk waved him closer, and Spock obeyed, moving to stand directly in front of his captain. He fought to quell the un-Vulcan like flutter of fear in his stomach which coupled with the alcohol to make him feel almost nauseous. Spock's attention was torn away from himself when Kirk reached out a hand and tugged on his hip, pulling him even closer.

Spock let himself be pulled, shocked by the contact and his new position between Kirk's spread knees. His mind raced with possibilities, but he shied away from the most obvious, logical, conclusion. Kirk couldn't be serious. A hand tugging on his made him realize that logic was undeniable.

Once again, Spock let Kirk pull him into position. Now he was not only between Kirk's knees, Spock was on _his _knees and very close to Captain Kirk. His logical mind flashed through possibilities again, and this time, he did not shy from his conclusion.

Spock's Vulcan mind raced through every scrap of information he knew of human sexuality and practices. He could put a name to what he was about to do; it was called oral sex or, more commonly, giving head. The tiny part of him that was human, the part that experienced emotions, was scared, curious, and excited all at once. It was almost too much for Spock to handle, and he felt himself begin to tremble.

Kirk reached out a gentle hand to rub Spock's arm, trying to still the tremors that racked his frame. After a moment with no sign of improvement, Kirk moved his hand to Spock's cheek and stroked him. Spock closed his eyes and took in the sensation. He was rarely ever touched; touching was foreign, taboo, _human_. Touching was nice. That thought let Spock relax enough to open his eyes and meet the bright gaze of the man sitting in the chair. Kirk smiled encouragingly and nodded to him, never removing his hand from Spock's cheek.

Spock gathered himself. He reached forward and found the fasteners of Kirk's trousers and opened them. Spock's mind idly threw him the fact that the zipper was invented in the year 1893 and had been in use for centuries. Then he was confronted with Kirk's undergarments, and all … _trivia_ was driven from his mind. His normally graceful fingers fumbled with soft material as he tugged it down, exposing Kirk's genitals.

Spock paused again. The representations he had been shown in anatomy classes had been accurate, but they somehow failed to truly represent the human body. His rate of breathing increased, a purely human reaction, when he was confronted with the swelling member. Kirk was already half hard, and Spock had only brushed him with the merest of touches. It was amazing, enthralling, _fascinating_.

Kirk was still looking at him, blue eyes intense, and Spock knew what was expected of him. He could not help but tease Kirk for a moment; he trailed a finger along the length of the captain's hardening member, watching it twitch as he circled the glans. Kirk's hand left off stroking Spock's cheek to tangle in his hair as a deep moan rose from Kirk's chest.

"Come on," Kirk urged. Spock allowed himself a half smile before he bent forward and tongued the head of Kirk's cock into his mouth.

From that point forward, Spock's mind entered an unusual duality. One part of his mind, the mind that had been trained by Vulcans for most of his life, noted the phases of Kirk's arousal with detached scientific accuracy. The human part, that was so innocent and curious and emotional, catalogued Kirk's every reaction to Spock's slightest movement.

Harder suction as Spock pulled back made Kirk tense and gasp softly in pleasure. A swirl of his tongue around the glans made the fingers in his hair flex and grip his skull as though Kirk wanted to crush him. Teasing the throbbing vein along the underside of Kirk's member made it throb faster and harder as Kirk's pulse raced. Controlling his natural gag reflex and taking Kirk deep into his throat earned Spock breathy groans and deep moans. He found the whole process fascinating.

Spock knew that people who experienced situations like these usually claimed they felt like the moment had lasted forever, but his Vulcan mind robbed Spock of that pleasure. It could not have been more than ten minutes before Kirk stiffened beneath him and gasped loudly as his orgasm overtook him.

Spock held himself absolutely still as his mouth was filled with Kirk's seed, relishing the taste and feel of it. When the captain collapsed in his chair, completely boneless and sated, Spock retrieved his empty glass and quietly spat into it. He was fairly certain that swallowing would be perfectly safe, but logic told him not to take the chance. Kirk watched him through dull eyes, his flushed cheeks, disheveled uniform and complete relaxation giving away what had just happened.

"If that will be all, sir?" Spock asked once his mouth was empty.

Kirk stared at him for a moment before taking a deep breath and answering, "You don't want to stick around for some pillow talk, commander?"

Spock searched for the meaning of pillow talk before replying. "No, thank you, captain. I believe it would be best if I left now."

"Of course," Kirk snorted, waving a hand in dismissal. "Very well, Mr. Spock. I'll see you on the bridge at oh seven hundred."

"Oh seven hundred hours, sir," Spock repeated dutifully. Then he made a sharp about face and exited the captain's quarters. Oh seven hundred was a long way away, and Spock had much to think about and analyze. Owing to the sensitive nature of his pondering, it was best done in the privacy of his own quarters.

*~*

Live long and prosper. **|\/|**


	2. Chapter 2 Seduce

**Author's Note:** Chapter 2 is finally finished and posted for your viewing pleasure. Thanks for your patience, alerts, reviews, favorites, and votes in my poll. They've all helped tremendously! If you want to help some more, keep doing what you've been doing! I love to hear from people, like just one review can make me happy all day. Enjoy!

\/\/\

The door to his quarters _swished_ open, and Spock stepped gratefully into the heavier gravity. Maybe if he kept his matter together more firmly, his mind would not be whirling with everything that had happened. He, Spock, a Vulcan, had just performed a sexual act. He had performed a sexual act with a human. Spock's logical mind tried to override the swirling... something, but his attempts at reason and order were futile.

Suddenly, his arm shot out and a chess board that had been a gift from his mother hit the floor. The pieces scattered with a satisfying clatter. Spock felt something – two somethings bubbling up inside him. He had experienced them both before, a long time ago when he was just a child. Knowing what was happening made Spock clamp down on the somethings, he dared not name them, and try to ignore them.

He stalked over to the large cushion he used to meditate. His limbs automatically assumed their positions, and his eyes snapped shut. Taking a deep, measured breath in through his nose, letting it slowly out. After four more breaths and consciously relaxing his tense muscles, Spock felt a state of semi-order descend on his mind.

He let his consciousness drift, trying to drop away from himself in his meditation. He counted his breaths and the beat of his heart and was soothed. This was what his mind craved; this order and peace, with no Captain James T. Kirk to fluster him and seduce him.

Was that really what had happened? Had Kirk seduced him?

The very definition of seduce was to lead astray, as from duty. Spock had been neglecting his duty and honor as an officer when he had... relations with another commissioned Star Fleet officer. Kirk had lured him in to intercourse. He had been tempted, drawn away, and enticed. But had he been attracted?

No, surely not. He was a Vulcan, not some silly human who was subject to every whim of their capricious emotions. He was not.

A sudden shrill whistle from his communicator told him it was oh six hundred. Spock unfolded himself from his cushion to began his morning ablutions.

**\/\/\**

At 0655, Commander Spock strode confidently onto the bridge of the _U.S.S. Enterprise_. He was greeted by the duty officer and signed all the appropriate forms and logs. Then he took his seat and began his shift. A moment later, Captain Kirk walked out of the turbolift.

The captain looked well considering he had consumed more alcoholic beverages last night in too short a time for his body to metabolize them. He still looked slightly hungover, but Dr. McCoy's hangover remedy must have been very effective for Captain Kirk to even be standing on the bridge.

Spock schooled his face to be impassive as he passed all the numerous logs, forms, reports, and other miscellany that required the captain's attention at the beginning of any shift. To his credit, Captain Kirk gave no sign of anything being out of the ordinary. He calmly did his duty and seemed content to let bygones be bygones in the harsh light of the bridge. Spock felt something suspicious rise up in his chest.

He saw Lieutenant Uhura raise a hand to her ear, her habitual response to any incoming communications or signals, and turned slightly to watch her. The ship was deep in settled Federation space, and Spock knew that, barring a distress call from another vessel, the incoming message was likely to be orders from Star Fleet Command. Kirk must have caught his movement in his peripheral vision and swung to face Lt. Uhura too.

A moment later, Uhura said, "Sir, Star Fleet Command orders you, your first officer, and your command staff to be present at a holo-conference at oh seven thirty hours, Star Date 2258.49."

"Acknowledged, lieutenant," Kirk said quickly. Spock noticed the captain's face had lit up and that he suddenly seemed much less hungover.

That last statement was illogical, but he reasoned that humans also had some notion of mind over matter. Sometimes the best medicine was a distraction. Speaking of distractions, Kirk was speaking to him.

"... Make sure Bones gets the message, Uhura. Spock, come with me."

Dutifully, Spock stood and followed Captain Kirk into the turbolift, standing silently as Kirk gave the computer their destination. The conference rooms were not far away, but Spock noticed a certain amount of discomfort during the ride from Captain Kirk. A logical explanation for his discomfort would be claustrophobia, but if that were the case, James Kirk would not have been a field officer.

The corridors leading to the conference room were nearly devoid of personnel. With the shift change, most everyone would be on their way to or from their quarters. Recreational classes were scheduled to leave a two hour break around shift changes, and meetings were given a similar, but smaller break. The new orders must be very urgent or important for Star Fleet to send them at this time.

Kirk led the way to the largest room, which was reserved for command personnel. They were the first to arrive and so had the room all to themselves. Spock took a seat near the head of the table. The captain remained standing. Spock tried to meditate, his mind still unsettled, but Captain Kirk's pacing made it difficult.

"Sir."

Kirk whirled to face him. "Yes, Mr. Spock?"

Taken aback, Spock hesitated and reconsidered what he wanted to say. His mind supplied many logical and pointless possibilities. For some reason beyond all logic, he decided to say, "I hope you have recovered from last night."

"Ah, last night." Kirk slumped against the bulkhead and rubbed a hand across his eyes. "I'm fine. Bones works wonders with that hangover cure of his."

After a few moments of uncomfortable silence, Kirk asked, "Are you all right?"

"I am perfectly well, sir. My Vulcan metabolism allows me to consume more alcohol than I did last night and remain relatively unaffected by it."

Spock was puzzled by Kirk's small smile and snort. His posture telegraphed discomfort and amusement, an odd combination that only a human could pull off. Kirk's discomfort only increased as he said, "That wasn't exactly what I meant, Spock. I was more concerned with...other things."

Spock allowed himself a raised eyebrow of surprise and consideration; Kirk was referring to his indiscretion. "I see no reason for concern."

"Spock, don't you...If you don't want to talk about it, I understand. I won't breathe a word of it." Kirk looked at him earnestly, eyes bright. "It's just...with what you've gone through recently, you might do something you regret. As captain, it's my duty to ensure the well-being of my crew, emotionally and physically."

"I am quite well, sir," Spock said. "I was in full control of myself last night and regret nothing."

"All right if you're sure," Kirk said quickly. "I won't mention it again. Star Fleet frowns on its officers being compromised by personal affairs."

Spock nodded his agreement. Then they both turned as Dr. McCoy entered the conference room, belligerently grumbling something about Star Fleet not letting him do the job they ordered him to do. Lt. Commander Scott bounced his cheerful way into the room just behind Dr. McCoy and greeted them all loudly. Lieutenants Uhura and Sulu appeared next, along with the captain's newly appointed yeoman. Spock was unsurprised to see that Yeoman Rand was young, blond, and no doubt a beautiful woman by human standards. The command staff assumed their seats and rampant speculation as to the subject of the holo-conference began.

"We're probably going t'be put on a standard patrol," Scott said, his accent a thick burr.

Lt. Sulu disagreed. "Don't you think they'd have something more important for us to do? We're the heroes that saved Earth!"

"Aw, heck no, Mr. Sulu," McCoy drawled, sprawling in his chair. "We're still new and wet behind the ears. We just got lucky, and we'll have to prove ourselves to Star Fleet before they give us anything interesting."

Any further discussion was cut short by the holo-screen springing to life. The picture was slightly warped and out of focus. Lt. Uhura leaned forward and adjusted the controls. The lieutenant on the screen slowly came into focus.

"Captain Kirk?"

"Present, Lieutenant," Kirk acknowledged, sitting straighter.

"Please have your communications officer verify and secure the connection before Rear Admiral Yaeger gives you your orders," she said briskly.

Kirk nodded to Uhura, and she quickly did as requested. After she pulled back, Kirk sat forward, resting his clasped hands on the table, and said, "Connection verified and secured, lieutenant. This is Captain James T. Kirk of the _USS Enterprise_, serial number SC937-0176CEC, security code A19-56."

"Thank you, sir," the lieutenant said pleasantly. "Connecting you to the admiral now."

The screen went blank for a moment then an older man appeared. He was obviously seated at a desk, looking over a file. His face was craggy and lined. Once blond hair was slowly fading to silver and receding. Piercing blue eyes looked straight through the holo-screen.

Spock noticed that Captain Kirk suppressed a gulp before speaking. "Admiral Yaeger, sir. Good morning."

Yaeger nodded. "Captain Kirk, it's a pleasure. How's your new command?"

"Fine, sir." Kirk relaxed slightly. "The repairs are complete, and everything is in working order. We're ready for whatever the galaxy can throw at us, sir."

"Good, good," Yaeger said, nodding. "I'm glad to hear that because Star Fleet has assigned you a very special mission, Kirk."

"And what is that, admiral?" Spock thought the phrase "pricking his ears" described Captain Kirk very well at that moment, even though most humans were not actually capable of the muscle control needed to move that part of their body.

"The _Enterprise_ will be receiving orders to attempt the first extra-galactic exploration, Kirk. You lucky sun of a gun." Yaeger's eyes twinkled with humor, pride, and just a touch of envy. "Star Fleet has decided it's time to explore outside of our own galaxy. The _Enterprise_ was built with just such a long term mission in mind, so she's been given the assignment."

"Thank you, sir," Kirk replied, sounding slightly shocked but pleased.

Yaeger leaned forward and did something out of range of the holo-screens lens then sat back. "Your formal orders are being sent now. All the details are in there. You have a series of supply and personnel drops to complete as you make your way to the designated probe point. A word of advice, my boy."

Kirk glanced back at the screen. He'd been watching for the orders to come through, but now the admiral had all of his attention again. He nodded shortly and said, "Yes, admiral?"

"I know the _Enterprise_ is your first command, Kirk, and this is a very important mission. Lots of eyes will be on you. Watch yourself, and don't make any rash decisions. Keep your cool, do your best, and this will be just one of many missions to come," Yaeger said gruffly. Spock considered his advice to be sound and logical.

Kirk agreed, nodding some more and saying, "Thank you very much, admiral. I appreciate the advice."

"Very well, Captain Kirk. Your orders have arrived, and we're just wasting Star Fleet resources now. Good luck, Kirk, and God speed." With that, Yaeger severed the connection from his end.

Kirk was left stuttering a belated farewell to a blank screen. Everyone sat in stunned silence for a long minute, no doubt processing the news. Then Kirk leapt to his feet.

"Did you hear that?" He crowed. "We're going to the edge of known space! Outside our galaxy!"

Spock thought the outburst was unbecoming a commanding officer and an illogical display of enthusiasm, but he kept that opinion to himself as he joined in the review and discussion of the new orders.


End file.
